


The Flight of Prisoner three-nine-zero

by CypressWand



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Azkaban, Dementors, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 18:51:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CypressWand/pseuds/CypressWand
Summary: A story about the escape of Sirius Black from Azkaban, seen through the eyes of a Dementor called 'It'.





	The Flight of Prisoner three-nine-zero

_Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves...trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves...trespassers..._

Over and over, the prisoners' mantra repeated inside its head. This particular Dementor was new on the job. Bred in the mists of Dartmoor only several weeks prior, it had been transported in a magical box to Azkaban, only to be released and trained for patrol.

 _Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves...Naudiz. Ehwaz. Three-eight-eight. Laguz. Ingwaz. Three-eight-nine_.

With every round it made, the prisoners inside their cells cried out in horror. It grew weary of all the cries. It thought Azkaban was a horrible place to be. There was barely any happiness left to feed on. It was starving.

 _Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves...Perth. Algiz. Three-nine-zero_.

Prisoner three-nine-zero was a strange one. Sometimes it could smell him. Sometimes it could not. _Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves..._

'You don't happen to have any food, do you?' asked prisoner three-nine-zero. 'I'm rather hungry. You look a bit hungry yourself. Maybe you should have someone take a look at that.'

It could sense the male that was speaking to it. That did not happen often. 'You smell great,' said the prisoner. 'Like a mixture of pickled eggs and rotting fish. Delightful!' '

The male was clearly insane, but not like the others. 'Do you have a name, Dementor?' he asked. 'Are you a boy or a girl? No - wait! You're a genderless creature. Can I give you a name? Charles, perhaps? No. Too pompous. What about Stacy? Or would you prefer a title? How about: The Great Depression? How does that sound? Pretty good, eh?'

If it was able to roll its non-existing eyes, it would have. Most prisoners did not speak as much as prisoner three-nine-zero did. They all wept: Crying for their Dark Lord. Crying for their mothers. Prisoner three-nine-zero did not cry. Prisoner three-nine-zero talked and talked and talked...and talked.

'I know you're new here,' said prisoner three-nine-zero, and it could sense that the male had come closer to speak. 'Must be a tough life for you? First, you're born in a beautiful place surrounded by happiness to feast upon; then suddenly they lock you in a box. Then they drag you here, and you end up being no better off than the ones that are behind bars. There's nothing good left to feed on. You're starving. I'm starving. It really is a bad compromise if you think about it.'

The male did have a point. _Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves..._ It had to remind itself that the magical creatures behind bars were there for a reason. They had failed to abide by their own laws. They had to be punished. The punishment was it.

'My friends all think I'm a murderer,' said Prisoner three-nine-zero nonchalantly. 'Or what's left of my friends, at least. Prongs is dead. Wormtail's a traitor. Moony is a werewolf...poor bloke. He probably wants to see me dead most of all, but that's okay. I wish I were dead too, sometimes.'

The male was being depressing. It couldn't feed on that. It was tempted to abandon the male and continue its duty. Maybe some happiness would be available for it at the end of its patrol.

'Please don't go, oh Great Depression,' begged prisoner three-nine-zero. 'Have you grown bored of me already? We may never see each other again, you know? But there's so much more that we could talk about before I leave. One sided conversation or not.' He plopped down on the floor and continued speaking. 'Tell me about your parents? Did they love each other? Did they play fetch with you when you were little? I do love to play fetch. It's my favourite game.'

The male started to howl. The howling sent a chill down its translucent body. The male must have retreated to the back of the cell. It could no longer sense the male's presence.

 _Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves...Dagaz. Fehu. Three-nine-one. Hagalaz. Mannaz. Three-nine-two_. Its patrol was over. It hung its hood down in disappointment. There was no happiness for lunch. _scum_.

... ... ...

Alarm bells had started to ring; it wondered why. Human guards were running around in panic. It was driven up against the wall by silver creatures that had sprouted from the human's sticks. The creatures made it feel as if it was suffocating.

 _Trespassers...murderers...tramps...scum...thieves..._ 'Sirius Black has escaped!' yelled one of the human guards. 'Put everything on lockdown!'

Were they blaming it? The other Dementors were searching the corridors without it. 'Prisoner three-nine-zero has escaped,' said a human guard to the other Dementors. 'We need more backup. NOW!'

Prisoner three-nine-zero. The male who talked and talked and talked. How did prisoner three-nine zero slip through the bars? "Have you grown bored with me already? We may never see each other again, you know? But surely, there is so much more that we could talk about before I leave."

The male had been planning his escape all along. _Murderer_. Should it warn the others? It could not escape from the clutches of the magic creatures. It decided not to take action.

The whole prison was searched. Humans and Dementors were flying through the air to find the one they called Sirius Black. There was no sign of the male. Panic rose higher and higher. More important humans arrived to be notified about the escape. It was still stuck in the corner. Still surrounded by magic creatures. It was frightened.

'Is that the Dementor?' asked an important human. 'Is there any way I could speak to it?'

The magic creatures finally vanished. 'Could you tell me where Sirius Black has escaped to?' asked the important human.

It shook its hood. Using its translucent hand, it motioned towards its mouth in an attempt to make the important human understand that prisoner three-nine-zero had been hungry.

'You think he's gone in search for food, eh?' said the important human. 'He's no longer on the island. How did he escape?'

It didn't know how to make the important human understand that it could no longer sense the male. It remained silent.

'Lock this one up,' said the important human. 'That new supply of Dementors must've been a bad batch. Better get rid of 'em before they let any other prisoners escape.'

It was dragged away by two other Dementors, and placed inside a box it could not escape from. It usually found comfort in the darkness, but this was a different kind of darkness.

Prisoner three-nine-zero had vanished without a trace; the voices from outside the box told it so. It felt jealous of the male's escape, but also something else it could not quite place. The male had found a way to feast on happiness. It had been locked up inside a box and left to die.

It felt selfless; and with that thought inside its mind, it dissolved into nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Sirius Black's prisoner numbers are the runes Perth and Algiz (transliteration is "P" and "Z"), followed by 390. Sadly, fan fiction doesn't allow me to post runic symbols. It's unknown to me whether the runes were chosen deliberately or chosen at random for the film's sake.


End file.
